Sans Mistletoe
by Mariko Azrael
Summary: Albert spends Christmas in New York with Jet, where they learn the true meaning of the holiday. Or make out, either one. [Yaoi, 002 x 004]


Disclaimer: Shotaro Ishinomori's, not mine

Final Warning: This fic contains 24, Jet/Albert, etc. If this bothers you, I wouldn't read it if I were you.

Jet was getting soft in his old age. That was the only explanation. Why else would he had ever, even for a second, thought this was a good idea?

Oh, it had started out innocently enough, with Albert calling him one wintry day. He had been surprised to hear from him, since Albert wasn't exactly the most talkative of individuals, not to mention what his phone bill would look like at the end of the month. Still, it had been awhile since he had heard from him, long enough to actually miss him… somehow, the conversation turned how they were planning to spend Christmas, and Albert had said he was just going to enjoy having some time off from work.

"Well, why don't you enjoy having some time off from work at my place?" He hadn't even realized he said it until Albert agreed to the invitation. So now here they were, stuck in his unheated apartment on Christmas Eve, trying to drown themselves in hot chocolate.

What the hell had he been thinking? He was a former thug, what did he know about crap like this?! When he was growing up, each day had been a struggle to survive. Christmas had only been an exception because of all the asinine decorations. He had absolutely no reason-

Albert was taking a careful sip from his mug. He could see almost all of his neck as he tilted his head back.

… Okay, maybe he had a reason, but certainly not one he was going to admit to.

"Are you okay, Jet?" Albert looked at him over his drink, concern flashing in his blank blue eyes. "You're gloomier than usual."

"I'm fine." Jet mumbled as he glared at the frost on his window. "But I'm pretty sure this isn't what you had in mind you came over for Christmas."

"Are you kidding?"

Jet had a sneaking suspicion the German was enjoying his confusion, because he was grinning form ear to ear. "I don't really have much experience with the Holidays, and what little I do has been uniformly bad. Except for this year." He was still smiling, but there was a faraway look on his face now. "It's certainly an improvement to how I spent last year, which was on the Dolphin feeling sorry for myself, or how I would've spent it this year, in my apartment feeling sorry for myself." Albert gave him another look this time, the one that made him sometimes wonder if he could see right through him. "Trust me, you've done more good than you know."

"Eh… maybe…" Without thinking, he downed the rest of his drink in one gulp.

"**_Jesus Christ!_**"

Albert winced in sympathy. "That's why they call it **hot** chocolate, Jet."

Glowering at his friend, Jet bent over for his mug, which had fallen on the floor when he had burnt his tongue.

"I've got it---"

"Don't worry about it---"

The sensation of steel against his fingertips was such a new one that Jet couldn't stop the gasp. He went still, trying to catch his breath.

While he was trying to do that, Albert had drawn his hand back, like he'd been stung. He looked like he was in actual physical pain for several seconds, and then, in a voice so quiet that even Francoise would've had trouble hearing him, he murmured, "I'm sorry. Cold metal pressed up against you can't be the most pleasant thing in the world."

"No!" He knew he was taking a risk, but dammit, he wasn't going to let Albert revert back to that type of thinking either. "… Quite the opposite, actually."

Now it wasn't just metal fingertips against his hand now, it was metal fingertips against the side of his face, against his scalp as they pushed the hair out of his eyes. He made himself relax, letting himself lean into the touch.

"That's, ah… an interesting fetish you have there."

"So nice of you to notice."

Now it was Albert's lips on his, soft and cool but insistent as he gently pried his mouth open. He wasn't entirely sure how long the kiss lasted, but it was long enough to leave him gasping for air once he finally pulled away.

They just sat there, looking at each other, waiting for the other to do something, until Albert rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I wasn't expecting that to happen."

Jet rested his head against the table. "Well, y'know, season of miracles and all that."

He knew everything would be okay when Albert chuckled softly. "True." The German picked up the forgotten mug and headed for the kitchen sick. "I better rinse this out now."

"Hey, Albert?"

"Hmm?"

"See if there's any mistletoe in the house while you're up?"

He could get used to this Christmas thing.


End file.
